Differences
by TheRg
Summary: A reunion fic featuring the Doctor 10th , Rose, Jack and Martha. Very much a 10/Rose. Rated M for later stuff.
1. Chapter 1

They'd just left 36th century Mars, not where he'd planned on taking her but nothing bad had happened. Well, nothing too bad at least. That is to say, they still had their shoes. Actually, he still had his shoes. These were good shoes, they didn't get lost easily. Martha however, she appeared to have lost one of hers in the run, she should wear proper shoes.

Martha, Martha Martha Maaaartha. His mind chewed on the word and he cast his mind over her. She was different to… Well, she was different, he could say that much. She was smarter, more opinionated. She was posher and wore more expensive clothes.

The Doctor was torn away from his thoughts by the sound of heels on metal grating. Glancing up he quickly gripped a lever and thrust it down, trying to look impressive.

"So… Where to next?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

That was different as well. She wiggled her eyebrows, no more chewing on a lower lip or biting of the tongue.

"Uhrm… Ooh, I don't know…" He wiggled his brows in return and grinned at her. "Where do you feel like visiting?"

"Well. I've always fancied seeing the Ancient Olympics, only that might be tricky… Now women allowed, right?" Frowning she tried again, "Maybe… The building of the pyramids. How does that sound?"

That was different as well, she knew more about history and things. She always had ideas about where to go. He missed the spontaneous leaping from place to place, the surprises that came with it. He missed the excitement; she used to get so excited when they set off to someplace, any place any time, he could see it in her eyes… Best not to think about that, best not to think about any of that.

So he flashed her another brilliant smile and ran around to the other side of the console, "That sounds marvellous." Grabbing what looked suspiciously like a basic mobile phone he started punching in numbers.

"Pyramids… 1300 AD it is then. That's pretty much when Giza was finished." He pressed the call button on the phone and wiggled his eyebrows at her "1300 AD it is."

--

He fumbled with the key, he couldn't fit it into the door with Martha clinging onto his arm like that. She was laughing, they both were. He was close, so close. Apparently there was quite a big difference between 1300 AD and 1300 BC. Especially when it wasn't Egypt, at least he was in the right solar system. Almost.

"And… And then they… No, wait a minute…" The Doctor waited patiently for her to get her breath between fresh bursts of giggles. "And then they…" She trailed off and made horns on her head with her fingers and waggled them, grinning.

"Yes, Yes!" He agreed, waggling his fingers in reply.

He was walking backwards, still wiggling fingers. He stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes, leaving Martha to close the door between hysterical bursts.

"I know! I know!" He grinned, then stopped. She wasn't laughing anymore. She looked shocked, scared even. "What? What is it? What's happened?"

She just stared and, stepping around him, asked in a soft voice, "Are you alright? I'm a doctor, well nearly. But are you okay? I can help."

The Doctor furrowed his eyebrows, "What me? I'm fine why? I… Oh. Oh… Ooh…" He trailed off when he realise she wasn't talking to him. But if she wasn't talking to him then that meant that there was someone else onboard and that… Well, that wasn't good at all.

Martha was oblivious to any danger, that wasn't much different. "I'm going to come closer, okay? To see what's wrong."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, that wasn't different. They're always blind to danger, go running off into it, leaving him to save them.

He swung around to grab her arm, trying to make her see the problem, "Nonono no Martha. We don't do that, we… Oh good god no…" He froze, mouth opening and closing silently, trying to process and voice all the thoughts going around his head at once. It wasn't possible, it just couldn't be.

"Rose?" He whispered her name, barely daring to hope. The figure lifted it's head, he could see blood trickling out of her mouth. "Rose… Oh god Rose. No no no no no." He reached forwards to touch her, he needed to know she was real, she just couldn't be.

He was startled to see her backing away from his hand, she almost looked scared. Frowning he took another step towards her, "Rose," he whispered, trying to get her to understand, "It's me… The Doctor, remember? New new Doctor?" She just took another shaky step backwards, he tried to warn her about the wire behind her but too late, she tripped right over it.

Before he could stop her Martha ran forwards, she crouched down and took Rose's pulse.

"Are you alright?" Martha asked gently, one hand on Rose's forehead. "What's your name?" She glanced at the Doctor and frowned before turning back to the girl on the floor, "Rose? Is that your name?"

Rose, the Doctor was sure it was Rose now, it had to be, glanced between the two of them and licked her lips. "Yeah… It was, Rose."

It was her, he'd been right. But how? It was impossible, wasn't it? He'd said it couldn't be done and he'd been right, hadn't he? Yes, of course he had. So how was she here? She just couldn't be. But she was. He frowned and reached he hand out towards her, snatching it back when she shifted away from him. He had so many questions, he had to know the answers.

He could see from the look on her face he wouldn't be getting them any time soon. She looked at him with large, watery, eyes. Eyes which contained so much pain, he didn't think it was possible for a human to hurt that much. He could sense it, see it in her wounded expression as she managed to squeeze out one more sentence.

"Yeah, it was Rose. You can call me Sarah Jane now 'though." And then she fainted, leaving the Doctor to take in her last few words. Now he hurt, he'd forgotten how much he could hurt.


	2. Chapter 2

The Doctor was slumped in a chair beside the unconscious figure. They were in the medical room. At least that was what he assumed it was, he hadn't actually seen it before but it probably was. Rose was lying on one of the beds there, shockingly pale. She looked so pale and so un-Roselike that the Doctor couldn't bring himself to look at her. He had his feet up on another bed and his eyes shut.

He could hear Martha moving around them, trying to keep quiet. He knew she thought he was asleep because she'd turned the sound off on Rose's heart monitor. He wasn't asleep, he wished he was. He was so tired, so very tired. There was too much going around in his head. He couldn't work out how Rose was here, it was just impossible. Well, it should've been impossible. Evidently it was, the proof was lying on the bed in front of him.

There was the other problem, as well. He tried to recall what Mickey had said… What was it now? "The missus and the ex. Welcome to every man's worst nightmare!" He would've laughed were it not so true. Rose's words were haunting him, drifting through his head. "You can call me Sarah Jane now".

Words whispered close to his ear, "Doctor?" His heart leapt but then he realized it wasn't Rose, just Martha. Feigning sleep he didn't reply.

"I'm going to go and get changed, I'll leave you with Rose… Sarah… Whatever her name is, I'll leave her with you. She's not unconscious anymore, just sleeping."

The Doctor could hear her walking away, silly heels clacking against the shiny white floor. He knew he should probably open his eyes and keep at least one of them on Rose but he was too tired, tired of all of this. He shifted in his chair and decided to sleep.

--

He was woken up by screams, high pitched and shrill. Those would be Martha's then, they weren't Rose's. He attempted to jump to his feet and see what was happening. He tried too quickly and ended up on the floor, face down in something sticky.

He froze, something sticky and wet. Something sticky, wet and _red_. Uh-oh, that wasn't good. Not good at all.

He tried to cry out but found his throat wouldn't let him. "Rose?" It was all he could managed, no matter how much he wanted to scream for her, no matter how much he tried to scream for her, he couldn't. His lungs seemed determined to starve him of air, even as he drew in a shaky breath.

He rose and moved towards her slowly, in a dream like state. He had to be dreaming, that was it. Rose's eyes could never be that dull, never be that lifeless. He tried to kid himself even as he inhaled the sickening smell of death.

"No Rose… No no no. Please god no." He moaned, taking in the harsh wound running right across her throat, her skin stained a vivid red.

He could hear Martha beside him, her words didn't reach his brain. He could only focus on the body in front of him, Rose, his Rose dead. It just couldn't be; they'd been through so much, saved the world together so many times, damn it she'd done the impossible, she'd found a way back to him from a parallel universe without shattering the whole of time and space. And now she was dead.

Lifting the knife out of Rose's hand he linked his fingers in hers. He let his head fall next to hers, pressing his nose to her cold cheek and cried. He cried longer than he could ever remember crying, longer than he thought possible, far longer than he'd cried when he said goodbye to her. Sobs racked his body while his tears washed her blood away from his face and onto the bed where they dried, together.

Finally he lifted his head and looked at her, his thumb stroking the back of her hand.

"Oh Rose… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." It was all he could do for her, whisper an apology that came much too late.

He didn't know why she'd done it but he could give a pretty good guess. She didn't want to end up as another Sarah Jane. How could she have thought that? Didn't she realize that she was different, she was special.

He ran a hand through his hair, wincing as fingers ripped through tangles caused by the dried blood there. There was too much going through his mind. Things he wished he'd done, things he wished he'd said or had the guts to say. He sighed and let his head fall into his hands, fighting back more tears. So caught up in his own self pity he almost missed the small gasp that came from the body in front of him. Almost, but not quite.

He lifted his head but refused to allow himself hope; it would just be Martha back to see if he was alright. He frowned, Martha wasn't back yet. For the third time that day he froze, shock and fear creeping over him. The jagged wound across Rose's neck was gone, replaced by a small white scar which even now was rapidly shrinking.

The fingers pulling away from his, Rose was sitting up and staring at the blood staining her hands. That couldn't be right. You can't sit up if you're dead. Although knowing Rose…

"Rose?" He made a mental note to think of new things to say to her, that one was getting a bit old.

"Doctor? It worked then? I'm really here… Oh yeah, I remember. Sarah Jane, right?" She had to turn away from him so he wouldn't see the tears staining her cheeks.

He reached out to turn her face back towards his, he needed to explain to her, only to have his hand batted away.

"Oh Rose. No Rose, no. Never a Sarah Jane, never." Then the impossibility of the situation struck him and he had to ask her about it, "Wait Rose, wait. Look at me just for a minute." He waited until she turned reluctantly to face him, wiping at her face with her bloodied sleeves.

"How did you… You were… What happened?" He looked at her pleadingly, trying to get her to see how sorry he was, trying to make her understand.

She just stared at her blood stained hands and shrugged. "I can't die… Or I can but then I don't, right?" She snapped from behind shaking hands.

It wasn't really, not at all. For a start that was impossible, but that was Rose. She'd found a way back to him, she'd defied death, she'd…

"Rose, I have to know exactly what…" The Doctor started, only to be cut off by Martha walking back into the room, arms full of rags and heavy duty bleach. She screamed, again, and the Doctor groaned.

Rose tried her best to get to the door without falling over, she ended up clinging to one of the beds, looking pleadingly at the Doctor.

"I'm going to bed, in my room. If it's still there." With that she stumbled out of the room, leaving the Doctor and Martha to clean up after her.


	3. Chapter 3

Rose managed it through six corridors and three doors before she allowed her weary legs to collapse against the wall. She was tired, emotionally and physically, dying tended to do that to a person.

She knew she shouldn't have been angry at the Doctor. She knew it would happen, she had known that he'd replace her. She just hadn't expected it to happen that soon. No, that was silly. It had been nearly three years for her, who knows how long it had been for the Doctor. She didn't even know if that girl was the first or not.

Pain stabbed deep into her heart, she felt it more than she'd felt the knife just before the first time she found out she was immortal. It chilled her and she dry wretched between chattering teeth, wishing more than ever that she could just die.

It just wasn't fair. She'd wanted to live forever with him, after she'd met Sarah Jane and he had explained just why he had to keep that barrier between them, no matter what either of them wanted. She'd silently vowed that she would; she'd find a way to be by his side forever. All the time that she wasn't with him, and wasn't locked in a cell waiting for him to rescue her, she'd be in the library on the TARDIS, looking for someway to stay with him, forever.

She'd felt some relief at the idea that he hadn't seen her die; he hadn't known what her life would be like in that other world. She'd been glad, he hadn't been able to see her pining for him.. But that little drop of happiness couldn't hold up against deep oceans of depression. She was constantly plagued by the ideas of what that promised fantastic life could've been like.

So one day she couldn't take it any more. It had been a bad day; they'd had to separate a newly married couple because the 'husband' was an alien. The wife hadn't cared, she'd known what he was and loved him all the same. She'd cried and pleaded with Rose even as they dragged him away, her sentences getting less coherent with every sob drawn out from her chest. She'd have to live alone with the thoughts of what could've, what would've been while her husband sat in a cell somewhere.

It had struck too close to home for Rose, brought back the pain that she'd tried so hard to submerge under paperwork and false smiles. The woman had said to her "You don't understand, life isn't worth living if it's not with him." Rose had to laugh when she thought back on it, a deep, choking laugh that soon turned to sobs which threatened to steal her breath and leave her unable to breath.

Through her tears she thought back to what had happened next. The bottle of vodka when she got home, the second bottle, the bottle of wine and the carving knife. It was terribly cliché, she cringed to think back on it. It hadn't hurt as much as she'd been expecting. That was probably the alcohol though, numbed her. She like being numb, it had been enough for the first few months. When she was numb she could just think back on happy memories without being plagued by the sad ones.

It had seemed like such a good idea at first, she wouldn't be able feel any more of the pain. It wouldn't matter that she wouldn't feel good ever again, stopping the pain was all that mattered. She'd been surprised when she'd woken up again, she would've put it down to alcohol induced hallucinations were it not for the blood running down her arm. Confused she tried again, plunging the blade deep into her chest. When that had no apparent effect she tried slitting her wrists, throat. Nothing worked. She'd ended up sleeping better that night, safe with the promise that as soon as she got to work she'd find a gun and do it properly.

That would work; zombies only ever died when you blasted out their brains, right? So that was what she would do. That was what she did; she took the gun out of the weapons area at Torchwood, ran down to the test range, aimed and pulled the trigger. She remembered falling backwards with the dying memory of satisfaction, more pleasure that she'd experienced in a long time.

But then the pain was back, threatening to surround her and pull her further into her own private hell. No matter what she'd tried it hadn't worked. Gas, fire, chemicals, drugs. They all brought no release.

Rose whimpered at the memory and forced herself to stand up and stagger onwards. Through another door, around the next bend and through the archway and into the control room. Only this wasn't the control room, it appeared to be a room full of varying styles and designs of garden furniture. Only the Doctor, she though, trust him to have a collection of garden furniture. That brought good memories, memories of laughing and teasing. But then those brought back the image of him and that girl, the new one, walking in through to TARDIS door, laughing. And that brought back the pain. Wasn't that always the way? What was it Madame de Pompadour had said?

"The monsters and the Doctor. It seems you cannot have one without the other."

She was right, too right. Rose's monsters had plagued her every night and day. Images dancing behind her eyelids, slight noises triggering painful memories. And then one day she'd realised, Torchwood dealt with aliens. Torchwood in the otherworld had been founded to fight the enemies from the sky who might one day plague the Earth. That and to be ready if and when the Doctor ever returned.

The Torchwood in the otherworld might be different, but it wasn't that different. She'd dug deep, devoted all of her time and energy into finding out who Torchwood feared and how she could contact them. At last she'd found her, someone called Silena. Her people were immortal, from natural death at least. They were akin to the Doctors in a number of other ways but different in many, the key difference being that they couldn't travel in time. They had, however, learnt how to travel across it. Silena had the power to send Rose back to her own world, back to the Doctor.

Rose slumped onto a ridiculously ornate garden bench and let the memories of the past year wash over her. She'd spent so long trying to find this 'woman'. Even longer trying to convince her to help her. She'd begged, bargained, even threatened but nothing had worked. Not until Rose had told her of her deepest darkest secret, her immortality, had she given in. She must have seen the despair in Rose's eyes and soul, felt her pain and longing.

She'd sent her across the divide, into the void and onto the TARDIS. The journey had been terrible, pain so unbearable that it would've killed any normal human. She had understood then why Silena hadn't wanted to send her. She'd endured it for what had seemed like an eternity and then another hundred years.

She'd almost thought it was worth it, even after she'd seen that girl. But then she'd seen him and he'd looked so happy, so carefree. He never i really /i looked like that with her. He always looked cautious, like she'd throw herself into trouble at any moment, forcing him to rescue her.

She'd hoped that, maybe here, she could die. So she'd tried again, slicing smoothly across her throat with a scalpel lying by the bed.

Rose stared down at her hands, seeing the blood as if for the first time. Tears sprung anew from her eyes, blurring her vision. She couldn't clearly see the figure that stepped into the arched doorway but she could tell it was him, she just knew. She raised her bloodied hands at him, trying to make him understand everything that she'd been through for him.

"I… I'm lost… It's different… It's all different now…" She choked out the words, stuttering over each new syllable.

He just nodded and bent down to pick her up, ignoring her feeble struggles. Lifting her smoothly in his arms he walked the short distance to her room and placed her on the bed, motioning to her clothes, they were just as she'd left them.

"This is all the same." He said monosyllabically, "Your bathroom is still through there." He pointed one long digit towards a door on her left and strode out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

He didn't hear her fresh sobs from the other side of the door, he was too busy pressing his forehead into the wall, trying to fight back the tears which rolled freely down his face.


	4. Chapter 4

As soon as her tears had subsided enough to let her see her surroundings reasonably clearly Rose dragged herself up and into her bathroom. She had to bite her lip to fight back a fresh round of sobs that fought in her throat as she saw everything just the way she'd left it.

Stepping into the shower she forced her shaking hands to scrub at her skin until it was red and sore. She turned the water up until its touch burned her and willed it to wash away her pains.

Rise didn't know just how long she had been under the torrent of water, long enough for her skin to wrinkle and fatigue seep into every bone in her body. She staggered back into the bedroom and curled up on the bed, too tired even for tears.

--

Rose spent the next few days thinking. At least, that was what she called it. The Doctor thought she was sulking. She only ever came out of her room to find a pot noodle or for something to drink. He knew there was a problem with Martha. Rose refused to speak to her, even after he'd begged her to be nice. That said, she wasn't currently speaking to him either.

That caused the Doctor to punch the control panel especially hard; he was cross. They'd been in the void for too long. He wanted, no, he i needed /i to get out and about. If only Rose would stop sulking. It had something to do with Martha, he knew that, but he couldn't just send her home. He couldn't send Rose home either. Even if he was able to he knew that his heart, not to mention the TARDIS, wouldn't let him.

He wanted to go and talk to Rose but knew it would do him no good; he had to let her take her own time. It didn't stop him from being angry about it. He ended up taking this anger out on the TARDIS at first, fiddling and rewiring where not only she didn't need but didn't seem to wait. After a particular nasty burn on his right thumb he ended up venting all of his pent up frustration on Martha, snapping at her when she didn't deserve it and being even more short tempered than usual. He didn't mean to be, he just… He needed Rose to snap out of her dark mood and talk to him.

--

When Rose finally reappeared in the control room it was to a dark look from the Doctor, she couldn't see Martha anywhere. That was good, at least, it made what she wanted to say easier without her questions and chirpy attitude.

Rose felt bad for hating Martha as she did; the girl had shown nothing but kindness to her. She just couldn't help it. She didn't understand everything that Rose had been through, she couldn't. She might not meant to have taken Rose's place on the TARDIS but she had and Rose couldn't forgive her for that, no matter her good intentions.

Rose had made up her mind; she knew exactly what she wanted to do. She also knew that there was a right way and a wrong way about going about it. She didn't really mind which she used, she was going to get what she wanted; just this time.

Ignoring the look that the Doctor shot her way she sat purposefully down on one of the benches and took a deep breath.

"Doctor?" She couldn't hesitate otherwise she'd lose her nerve.

He just grunted in reply.

"I was thinking… I'd like to see Jack. An' then, if it's alright with you, you could fix us."

The Doctor didn't look surprised at the first sentence, he'd been expecting it, it was the second that startled him.

"Fix you? What the hell is wrong with you?" He tried not to yell at her, he really did. He just wasn't very successful.

"Nothing much, just the whole immortality thing, you know?" She spat at him. "Anyway, get Jack, yeah? Yell for me when we arrive." She had to get away, she couldn't bear to get angry at him again. She'd spent too long being angry.

The Doctor muttered darkly as she walked away, rewarding her with only a fleeting glance before harshly slamming down a lever and setting them off.

--

"Rose!" He yelled, trying desperately to ignore the startled American in the doorway as he set the back into the void.

"Rose! Get down here would you? He's here!"

Rose ran straight at Jack, almost knocking the Doctor over in her haste, she threw her arms around him and muffled her sobs in his collar.

Jack wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close, allowing himself a soft smile before pulling back and studying her face. What he saw worried him.

"Where's the Doctor?" He asked, voice strained with barely subdued anger, "Where is he?"

Rose pointed and the surly man slumped over a railing, "That's him. He's different… He…"

"Regenerated." Jack finished her sentence for her, "I guessed."

Jack strode purposefully towards the Doctor who straightened and tried to avoid an embrace.

"Hello! No hugs, please! New new Doctor, new new…" He didn't get any further, Jack's fist knocked the rest of the words out of his mouth.

The Doctor swung around, angry now. Finally, he was able to have something which he was allowed to get angry about!

"What the hell was that for?! What do you…" Once again he was cut off by a fist to his jaw.

"Me." Jack gasped, his chest rising harshly in anger, "And that was for Rose."


	5. Chapter 5

The next few days were some of the most awkward that the Doctor had ever had the displeasure to experience. Which, frankly, was saying something.

Jack and Rose kept whispering to each other; they would send resentful looks in his direction and seemed to be the sole members in some secret club. The Anti-Doctor club, that was probably it.

Martha was the same but she was so different… He couldn't bring himself to laugh at her jokes any more. They were too complex; she was too witty, too clever. He could feel her slipping away from him. It had happened before and each time he was powerless to stop it.

The Doctor knew he should probably talk to Jack, find out what had happened, how it had happened. He should talk to Rose too but that was different. Jack was a man. Maybe not a very manly man but a man; men he could deal with. Then again, Rose hadn't punched him. Twice. i No /i , some independent part of his brain supplied, i she just tried to kill herself. /i 

He set off to find them, it didn't matter which one he found first, they'd probably be together anyway. He visited Rose's room first as it was close, Rose wasn't in her room, which he'd half expected; if they were avoiding him, as he believed they were, they wouldn't be somewhere so obvious.

He scuffed his shoes all of the way to Jack's room. The distance was little more than five or six steps but he took his time over them, savouring what, from his experience of Jack's punches, might be his last few minutes with all teeth intact.

He stopped by the door, hand on the handle, and listened. He didn't want to walk in on them doing anything... Well, anything Jack-like. He couldn't hear anything and, unsure whether this was good or bad, knocked on the door and turned the handle, spilling himself into the room.

They weren't in there. They weren't in the kitchen, the TV-room or the wardrobe room either. The dining room and the room that was filled with cushions were empty. He looked in the swimming pool, the games room and the room full of carpet samples, all vacant. Finally he dragged himself to his room and leaned dejectedly against the door leading to it.

Loud laughter suddenly emerged from within and the door opened away from him. Unable to gain his balance in time he ended up on the floor, in-between two pairs of feet. Looking up he saw Jack and Rose grinning down at him.

"We have to…" The Doctor frowned. Why were they grinning?

"Talk." They finished together, "We know."


	6. Chapter 6: I love you

They talked.

God, did they talk.

They talked until the Doctor thought his head would explode. It was all far too domestic for him. The worst of it was, they weren't talking about the right things. He _knew_ what had happened to Jack, he knew everything. He had a reasonably good idea what had happened to Rose.

They had to talk about what would happen now… What they'd do. He wanted Rose to stay, she had to stay. I wanted Jack to… Well, he'd cross that bridge when it came.

The Doctor opened his mouth, ready to cut Jack off in the middle of a complex, pointless sentence, "I think that… Wait, we need Martha for this."


	7. Chapter 7: Poor, Poor Rose

The Doctor crumpled the note inside his closed fist and threw it towards the bin. It was from Martha, she was gone. He'd been expecting it but hadn't expected it to be so impersonal. He thought that she'd have at least said goodbye to him.

It was full of the excuses he expected, i _"I need to finish my training …become a doctor … my family … too difficult." /i _

He nodded, silently agreeing with her. It was too difficult; he longed to run away from the mess he'd created. That was what he usually did, left everyone else to clean up. Not this time, this time his mess had caught up with him.

The Doctor froze, horrified that he'd just referred, albeit mentally, to Rose and, to a lesser extent, Jack as his 'mess'. Trying to shake a growing sense of inadequacy he began the slow walk to Rose's bedroom door.

Jack was standing there, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded, smiling nonchalantly at the Doctor.

"You can't cure it, can you?" His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but the Doctor could hear him perfectly above the TARDIS' gentle humming.

The Doctor shook his head slowly, trying to force every ounce of sorrow, desperation and futility that he felt into the simple gesture, Jack just laughed at him.

"You think it's funny?" The Doctor demanded, anger burning in his eyes, "I've done this to her and I can't do anything to stop it! I should- "

"No," Jack interrupted him, "I don't think it's funny. I just find it ironic. A Doctor who cannot cure, not even two simple human beings."

The Doctor slowly took in his words, understanding creeping across his face as a mask or horror.

"She didn't mean to." Jack added quickly.

"No…" The Doctor's words were slow and halting, like a child taking its first steps, "She just wanted us back… She didn't mean for any of this to happen. Poor, Poor Rose."

They stood there in silence for some time, how long exactly neither of them knew but they silently understood that these words needed to be accepted and properly understood.

Jack's voice broke slightly as he spoke, "And… You're sure?"

The Doctor just nodded, it was all he could do at a moment like this.

Suddenly Jack launched himself off the wall and towards the control room. "Might as well go then, my team need me and all that." The Doctor could tell he was trying to put on a cheerful face.

"What about Rose?"

"Tell her I'll see her soon. I better, with an unlimited life to live."

Again, it was all the Doctor could do to nod.


End file.
